<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>a nod and a wave by y9gurt (rydellon)</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29894802">a nod and a wave</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/rydellon/pseuds/y9gurt'>y9gurt (rydellon)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Alternate Universe - Idols, Anxiety Attacks, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Identity Reveal, Miscommunication, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Secret Identity, oh boy lets see how this goes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 17:49:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,688</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29894802</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/rydellon/pseuds/y9gurt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Hey, uh…” The man says, and Techno peeks up over the counter.</p><p>“Thanks.”</p><p>He leaves after that, pushing the door open so that the shitty little handmade chimes above the door ring. Techno stares after him, and gets the weird feeling that he’s missing something.</p><p>Or</p><p>Dream, a famous singer, meets someone who doesn't know who he is, and coming back to where he met him drags him into a second fast-paced life where he can be himself.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clay | Dream &amp; Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), No Romantic Relationship(s), Technoblade &amp; Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade &amp; TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo &amp; Technoblade, Toby Smith | Tubbo &amp; TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot &amp; Technoblade, Wilbur Soot &amp; Technoblade &amp; TommyInnit &amp; Phil Watson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>66</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>383</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. all the sensibilities of an upper class guy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>damn i guess im gonna make a chaptered story now. alright. enjoy i guess. story title from thriller by fall out boy.  description is tentative rn but haha i guess we'll see how it goes.</p>
    </blockquote><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>chapter title from seventeen by marina and the diamonds.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>When the door of the flower store opened and closed in rapid succession, like someone had slammed it closed behind them, Techno hadn’t thought much about it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In his experience working here, people seem to have a bad habit of rushing into the store in such a manner, although it being mid September meant that it was slightly abnormal for the type of year. Techno was mostly just irked about having to actually deal with customers when he had gone through the trouble to get Phil to book him during hours that wouldn’t usually be busy. The days where Techno doesn’t have to smile placatingly at fretting husbands with bouquets of tulips or anxious girlfriends with groups of peonies were the days that Techno enjoys most.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Techno bends down behind the desk to put his phone on a shelf and collect his breath before he stands up, readying himself to smile placatingly at someone with their hand hovering above the stupid little bell on the desk that Tommy had insisted on buying (specifically because he knew Techno hated them, he was sure of it). Standing up, he comes face to face with… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The same view that he always has.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The front of the store (with the door he was supposed to be watching), the low shelves of flowers that make up five neat rows (organized by flower type and colour, Techno had organized and straightened them earlier this shift), alongside the many hanging baskets on the ceiling that drip vines and small blooms towards the floor (Wilbur’s favourite, which is probably why Phil stocks so many). </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There seems to be nobody but Techno in the shop. His fingers start to twirl one of the pens sitting next to him on the desk. He squints over at the door, pushing his glasses up his nose to try and see them better. The handmade chimes are still swinging slowly, indicating that Techno wasn’t crazy and someone had actually entered the shop seconds prior.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The only logical jump from here was that someone was hiding from him, somewhere in the shop. Techno’s brain immediately jumped to it being a kid, and if there was a kid in the shop Techno might actually cry. He doesn’t want to deal with customers today, let alone kids, but he has to be responsible on the job.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh…hello?” Techno calls out, trying to raise his voice to not scare this potential kid in his shop. He hears a yelp (an adult-sounding one. It’s the small mercies.) and the sound of someone falling to the ground. Techno furrows his eyebrows. Was this person…crouching on the floor? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you ok?” Techno asks hesitantly, leaning over the counter to try and see them better, and the person shoots up from the floor, the hood of his sweater pulled tight over his face, so that all Techno can see of him that isn’t a green sweater or gray sweatpants is his hands, which he moves multiple times in what Techno presumes is an attempt to look casual. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He clears his throat. “I. Ahem. I am fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Techno raises an eyebrow and leans even more forward to get a better look at whoever’s standing in front of him. If the man fidgets under his stare, Techno doesn’t notice, because he’s starting to think he needs to pay his optometrist a visit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So,” Techno starts, leaning back again, “you’re fine, but you were just crouched and hiding behind one of the shelves and ran inside the shop like you’re hiding from someone. Forgive me if I don't believe you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man chuckles and raises a hand up to scratch the back of his head, visibly getting confused when his hand only encounters the green fabric of his hoodie. The motion pulls the hood of his hoodie a little bit, revealing the tip of his nose and his top lip to Techno before he frantically tugs on the strings again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They both stand there for a few more seconds, Techno staring at the man and the man just standing there with his hands on his hoodie strings. Techno puts the pen down on the desk and gestures around the shop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you gonna…buy some flowers?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Flowers?” The man asks, and Techno doesn’t know why he’s so confused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, uh. The things the store sells?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh! Oh, shit, uh,” the man lets go of his hoodie strings and reaches in the pocket of his jeans, moving around the shelves and grabbing a random bouquet of flowers as he pulls out his wallet. He places them on the counter and pulls out a credit card.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Techno glances up at him briefly and sees the man’s face as he’s looking determinately down at his wallet while trying to wiggle his card out. Techno shrugs it off and takes a quick glance at the flowers before punching a few numbers into the machine. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Better give these flowers to a special someone,” Techno says, thumbing over the petals as the man shoves his card into the reader and punches in his pin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A special someone?” The man looks up at him after he puts his card away, freezing as he notices his unblocked view.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Red roses, y’know? Romance?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Techno looks up once the man doesn’t respond for a few seconds and sees him standing there, gaping at Techno.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t…” The man says, and Techno frowns.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t…what?”  Techno asks, picking up the flowers. “Do you want a bow around these or something? Being roses and all?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man seems to snap out of his stupor and shakes his head, pushing his hood off of his head. His hair is dark blond and wavy, and Techno thinks he looks more like he belongs on a beach or a movie set than in some train station flower shop at 2pm on a Tuesday. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, no, no I’ll just take them like this.” He says, and Techno hands them over. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He walks slowly towards the exit and Techno ducks back down to grab his phone again, preparing to spend the rest of the afternoon (or at least until Tommy comes in for his shift) on his phone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, uh…” The man says, and Techno peeks up over the counter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He leaves quickly after that, pushing the door open and making the shitty little handmade chimes above the door ring. Techno stares after him, and gets the weird feeling that he’s missing something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead of thinking about it more (too much brain power that Techno really doesn’t want to expend right now) he sits back on his stool behind the counter and opens his texts to complain to Wilbur about getting a customer. By the next day Techno forgot about him, and was sure that that was going to be that. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. we're falling apart to half time</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“Is this Dance, Dance? I love Dance, Dance!” Clay says, turning to Techno.</p><p>“Yeah, it’s Dance, Dance,” Techno says, and Clay’s smile broadens as he spins out of the aisle they’re in.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>chapter title from dance, dance by fall out boy. im using real names for a reason haha, secret identities and all. check out my <a href="https://twitter.com/y9gurt">twitter</a> if you want to contact me ig. dont worry dear readers tommy tubbo wilbur and phil will show up in person and not just in passing at some point. also, i know i updated rather quick but updates will probably come out within a week of the last chapter, not always this quick haha</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Techno enjoys opening the shop, especially since compared to his last job opening was probably the easiest thing in the world. Since they didn’t lose any business by opening a little bit later in the day, Phil lets Techno’s shift start after the rush of adults with Actual Adult Jobs came through the train station in the morning, at around 10:30. It let Techno feel more comfortable (probably why he’d been working here for upwards of a year now), and avoiding the morning rush meant that his commute was shorter as well. </p><p>Opening shift means that he can go through the same motions every day, because Wilbur, more often than not, didn’t make sure the boys closed the store properly, meaning that Techno had the absolute pleasure of cleaning up whatever sort of mess Tommy and Tubbo had made the night before.</p><p>After counting the register, the first step of his routine is to flip the sign at the front of the shop and head behind to the counter to plug his phone into the aux under the desk. He then heads to the back to grab the broom so that he can sweep the floor before any potential customers come into the shop later in the afternoon or on their lunch break. Next he’s supposed to walk up and down the aisles to pull out bouquets or individual flowers that seemed to be dying, and water the potted and hanging plants around the shop (As much as Wilbur loved them he hated the repetitive action that was watering, so the job was delegated to Techno to do during his mornings.).</p><p>The door slamming open and closed while he’s grabbing the broom makes him jump, especially because it’s audible over the frankly quite loud music he had been playing while under the impression that nobody would be coming in. Techno drops the broom and it clatters to the ground, not even bothering to turn down the music as he rushes out of the back, scrambling behind the desk only to see a familiar green hoodie, the man tucking a pair of sunglasses into the neck of his sweater.</p><p>The chimes clink silently behind the Fall Out Boy blasting through the shop, and Techno crashes to the floor. </p><p>“Oh my god are you ok?” The man rushes up to the counter, pushing himself up on the old wood to peer over at Techno, who is laying there, almost in a state of panic and shock on the floor. What the fuck was this guy doing here again.</p><p>“Why were you wearing sunglasses, the shop is underground.” He says, instead of questioning why the man’s back in the shop.</p><p>“Oh, uh.” The man says, eloquently. He reaches up to fiddle with the glasses, and Techno squints up at them. They look kind of expensive, and like ones Techno would rather keep in a case than hang from his neck. </p><p>“Do you need help getting up?” The man asks.</p><p>“Do you really need this many flowers?” Techno asks, pushing himself up off of the floor and crouching to turn down the music. </p><p>“I just…” The man trails off.</p><p>Techno watches him glance around frantically at the small trinkets they have for sale at the counter, the little chalkboard stakes and watering can keychains.</p><p>“I wanted to talk to you again, I guess? You seem nice,” He says, and Techno’s hands lock up where he was reaching for Tubbo’s fancy flower pen. </p><p>“I—”</p><p>“Sorry if that’s a bit weird,” The man scratches the back of his head, then links his fingers together and squeezes them a little bit. Techno mimics the action with a sole hand behind his back and stabilizes himself after the break in his routine and the fall and the fact that the guy who he literally found crouching on the floor of the shop was back again for some reason.</p><p>“So…you’re not here to buy flowers, right?” Techno asks, and the man lets out a light wheeze-y laugh.</p><p>“No, no. I just thought you were cool, y’know?” </p><p>“I, uh. I guess. I’m Techno,” Techno says, and sticks out his hand. A smile blooms on the man’s face, pretty and white and large and one that makes Techno feel like he’s just pet a very excitable golden retriever, and he won't be able to take it back. </p><p>The man grabs Techno’s hand firmly and shakes it, making Techno feel like his shoulder was going to pop out of its socket. “I’m Dr—uh, Clay!” </p><p>“Alright…Clay.”</p><p>Techno shuffles backwards to grab the broom from the back room, taking a moment to breathe before coming back to see Clay fiddling with the watering can charms. They tinkle between his fingers as Techno passes around to the front of the counter, heading to the front of the store to start sweeping his morning flower pickings and Tommy and Tubbo’s dirt from the night before.</p><p>Clay follows along behind him like a duckling, peering around at him as he sweeps the floor in slow repetitive actions. It would be calming, if he didn’t have someone peering over his shoulder at every opportunity, but if Techno was being honest it didn’t really bother him as much as he thought it would when he saw Clay behind the counter again.</p><p>It seemed that Clay genuinely wants to…talk to him, whatever that means. Techno was never one to shy away from someone genuine, even if he didn’t outwardly show it. It’s why he likes Phil so much, because the man made a genuine effort to get to know him when he started working there through small chatting sessions that evolved from rapid-fire questioning. After Phil, Wilbur and Tommy had quickly warmed up to him, and that sort of inclusion made Techno feel like his heart was imploding within himself. </p><p>He just hoped Clay had some sort of way to go around this, since Techno himself was content in forming bonds through prolonged silence and quality time. </p><p>“So,” Clay says, startling Techno out of his thoughts, “the. The weather outside, right?”</p><p>Techno looks up at Clay, who is nervously fiddling with his hands, and then turns his head slowly to look out of the front window of the shop, at the artificial overhead lights of the underground shining through the foliage.</p><p>“Uh, it was kinda cloudy earlier if I remember?” </p><p>Clay coughs and shuffles back and forth on his feet. It’s quiet for another short while, and Techno sings along in his head to the song playing quietly in the background. Clay shuffles along behind him, furthering the puppy narrative that Techno has started constructing in his head.</p><p>Suddenly and seemingly out of nowhere, Clay seems to perk up as the song changes. Techno glances over at him as he starts bouncing on the balls of his feet.</p><p>“Is this Dance, Dance? I love Dance, Dance!” Clay says, turning to Techno.</p><p>“Yeah, it’s Dance, Dance,” Techno says, and Clay’s smile broadens as he spins out of the aisle they’re in (aisle 3, tulips, mixed bouquets, carnations, hyacinths, hanging baskets, twisting rack of vegetable and flower seeds between aisles 2 and 3.) to dance in the main aisle of the shop, the one with a direct view of the door and the cash register. </p><p>He twists his feet back and forth on the floor, gesturing to Techno while the song is still building up to get him to dance with him.</p><p>Techno shakes his head but stops sweeping, watching Clay dance freely by himself to the quiet song over the speakers, singing to himself under his breath. </p><p>As the song heads into the second verse, Techno sighs and leans his broom up against the low shelf. He feels Clay’s eyes on him as he skirts around him and heads behind the counter, bending down to turn up the knob on the stereo system, popping his head up over the counter to watch Clay make a turn and throw his hands up, now openly and loudly singing along to the music as the song ramps up for the chorus.</p><p>“Come dance with me, Techno, come on!” Clay smiles, reaching out a hand that Techno sighs and walks over to grab, immediately being twisted and pulled by Clay pulling him closer to him and grabbing his other hand, starting to push and pull his arms back and forth and twist his hips, smiling at Techno while singing along to the song.</p><p>Techno sighs and twists along with him, letting Clay twirl him in the middle of the store as Patrick Stump’s vocals blare all around them. Techno feels the same feeling he felt when Wilbur and Tommy had first warmed up to him growing in his chest, a smile slowly growing on his face as the two dance alone in the shop.</p><p>Clay is almost a near stranger to him, and yet he’s dancing and smiling alongside him, feeling happiness bloom up in his chest like it’s a habit and not something he usually has to plaster on his face, but eventually the song comes to a close, both Clay and Techno panting as Techno goes back to turn the next song that came up down back to the background noise the music had been before. </p><p>When Techno looks back at Clay the other man is bent over, hands on his knees and breathing heavily. He looks up at him, as if sensing that Techno is looking at him, and smiles so widely Techno thinks his face is going to split. Techno subconsciously feels a smile grow on his face as well, and Clay starts to speak again.</p><p>“That was <em> so </em>fu—” </p><p>Clay gets cut off by a sharp noise coming from the phone in his pocket, a chime ringtone sounding impossibly loud in the soft, happy atmosphere that had been permeating the shop before it had sounded out.</p><p>It repeats a few times and Clay fumbles to get it out, mumbling apologies out to Techno as he answers it.</p><p>Techno walks back to his former position again as Clay moves over to lean against the counter, phone pressed up against his ear. He picks the broom back up from its leaning position and starts to sweep the floor again. He hears snippets of the conversation from Clay’s side, but mostly tries to not eavesdrop on the conversation outside of the few snippets of cut off sentences (“Nick I—” and “I know but you said the meeting was—”) that Clay lets out while on the phone.</p><p>Techno finishes the aisle by the time he hears a “Ok, fine, I’ll just…I’ll be there in a few minutes.” and a sigh. He turns around to see Clay slipping his phone back into his pocket, looking back up at Techno apologetically. </p><p>“I—I’d love to stay, Techno, that was so fun, I’m sorry I have to—”</p><p>Techno turns towards his broom, continuing to sweep, waving a hand in Clay’s direction. “You have things to do, it’s ok. It…<em> was </em> fun, though.” </p><p>He doesn’t have to turn to see the smile he knows is on Clay’s face.</p><p>He hears Clay’s footsteps walk across the floor, and waits until he hears the chimes that signify the door being open before turning back to look at Clay.</p><p>“Hey,” he calls out, and Clay turns to look at him. Techno notices that Clay has not only put his sunglasses back on but has shrugged his hoodie over his hair. A bit weird, again, because they’re inside, but Techno isn’t one to judge him. “You should come around again. Bye.”</p><p>Clay smiles widely, and pulls a hand off the door to wave. “Bye Techno! See you soon!”</p><p>Techno watches Clay half-sprint down the hallway and thinks that this isn’t a customer (well, not really a customer, since Clay didn’t really buy anything) that he really minds, especially this early in the morning.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>me separating my personality into two parts and left brain right braining this fic?? more likely than u think. oh also i didnt beta this chapter sorry</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. make some new behaviours</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>chapter title from mos thoser by food house, gupi, and fraxiom</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>dice roll walks. hey. i didnt beta this (again, like last chap) ill probably try to beta when im fully done? probably. HOPE THIS DOESNT SEEM TOO DISJOINTED HAHAH SORRY</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>After the day of the phone call, Techno doesn’t see Clay for almost another two weeks. It’s his last shift of the week (Friday, because Wilbur works weekends. Techno thinks he’s training a new kid tomorrow as well, but he isn’t sure. The new hire shouldn’t really bother him if he’s not going to be around during Techno’s shifts.) and he’s about to stop paying attention to his phone and start paying attention to the lunch bag he has stashed under the front desk next to his phone when the chimes on the door ring, causing Techno to bang his head on the underside of the desk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Usually the charms (courtesy of a project Wilbur had done when he was 12, apparently. Explains why they look so bad.) signify Techno’s lunch coming in, some Uber driver pushing themselves through the door to hand Techno whatever he’d decided to order that day. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Today, it was a now-familiar green hoodie, a smile dropping from its owner’s face as he hears Techno swear loudly, Techno watching him run up to the counter and place two bags down on it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Holy shit, oh my god Techno, are you ok? Oh my god, I didn’t know that you were under there, oh no,” he fusses, his hands fluttering around where Techno is holding the back of his head, pressing on the skin gingerly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine, Clay,” Techno says, and Clay frowns.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You…that sounded like it hurt,” he fusses more, reaching for Techno’s hands to pull them off of his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Techno lets go of his head to slap Clay’s hand away from his head. “I’m fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He honestly, really was. He’s hit his head on other things much harder, and the fact that he can smell exactly what’s in the bags Clay had set down on the counter seconds before makes the slight pain and tenderness go away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clay sighs and shoves one of his hands in his sweater pocket. He runs the other over his face exasperatedly before grabbing the brown food bags and shoving them into Techno’s chest. “Here, I got you lunch from the burrito place in the food court. Now it’s gonna count as an apology too, because I feel bad for making you hit your head.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Techno knows this restaurant, he’s ordered from it a lot, because one of his old friends used to work there, and because he just really likes burritos, and the place makes some really good ones that Techno has probably had more than once this month already.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tells Clay as much and he smiles, leaning up against the counter as Techno sits down on his stool, pulling one of the two bags towards him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They have the same thing in them, I didn’t know what exactly you’d like but I just…I got you this,” Clay says, and Techno hums. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll probably like it no matter what,” he digs the silver-wrapped burrito out of the brown bag and unwraps it, taking a bite out of it before looking up to see Clay fiddling with his bag. He hasn’t even pulled out the burrito, although Techno knows that the scent only got stronger once he unwrapped his, and if he was in Clay’s position he wouldn’t be able to resist it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s up?” Techno asks, swallowing the bite he had taken. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I…can I have a stool or somewhere to sit?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mm,” Techno says, glancing at the second stool behind him. He grabs it with one hand and drags it up beside him, patting it and watching Clay’s eyes widen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Behind the counter?” Clay asks. He looks visibly uncomfortable with coming behind the counter, but Techno pats the chair again and goes back to his burrito, taking another bite as Clay passes through the small swing-y gate to sit on the stool beside Techno, pulling his bag over and immediately biting into the food, like he really had been holding himself back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few minutes pass before Techno says, “It’s good, isn’t it?” and Clay hums into the food.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. I missed you, I’m glad I had some free time today,” Clay says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mm, yeah,” Techno pulls a napkin out of the bag and wipes his face with it, staring down at the last half of the burrito. “You left so fast last time, you don’t have to tell me, but what was that urgent?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clay seems to freeze up. Techno can’t help but feel like he’s made a mistake in asking this, but since it’s come out of his mouth he can’t time it back, so he might as well follow it through.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well…” Clay starts slowly. Techno is about to open his mouth to tell him that he doesn’t have to tell him when Clay continues. “I—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s interrupted by the chime of the door, and when Techno’s head automatically snaps up to greet a customer, he’s instead greeted by the face of his boss, who looks pleasantly surprised to see someone behind the counter besides Techno.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clay, who seems to have lost his hesitancy and discomfort about being behind the counter, takes another bite of his burrito and just hunkers down on his stool. Techno waves and shoots out a “Hey, Phil” before taking another bite of his own. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Techno watches Phil study the both of him, eyes staying on Clay for a bit longer before he visibly shifts a bit, seemingly surprised about something. Techno looks back at Clay, who hasn’t noticed Phil’s behaviour, too engrossed in his food (and really, can Techno blame him?) then back at Phil, who’s heading up to the counter. He shrugs. Maybe they’ve met before or something, he’s not going to ask about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey Techno, mate,” Phil says, heading up to the counter to lean up against it. “How’s it going.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good,” Techno says, swallowing his last bite of food, “Clay brought me food, so now I have double food for today.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That's nice of him,” Phil says, scanning Clay up and down again, as if checking for something. “Is he </span>
  <em>
    <span>the </span>
  </em>
  <span>customer?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clay, with his mouth full of burrito, visibly chokes. His body lurches forward and Techno bursts out into laughter at the sight. Clay screeches a “WHAT!” and Techno laughs even harder, bending over himself on the stool and holding his stomach as Phil looks at the two of them, an amused smile tugging at his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Techno, what does that </span>
  <em>
    <span>mean</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Clay says, crinkling the wrappers of his burrito in his lap, leaning further towards him as if it would convince Techno—who is still bent over, still slightly wheezing and recovering from his laughter—to tell him what Phil meant by that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wh—oh god. When you first came in, like to the shop,” Techno lets out a huff, signifying the ending of his little laughing fic, “I complained about you in the group chat because I don’t like getting customers during the day.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clay makes a loud noise in mock-offense, his chin dropping as he slaps a hand to his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I cannot believe you’d complain about me! Your favourite customer?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Techno and Phil laugh again, and Clay joins in after a few seconds. The three stand there for a few more seconds after it dies down, before Phil speaks up again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well,” he says, slapping the counter of the shop, “I just wanted to stop by and see how you were going,” he nods at Techno, “so I’ll be going now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, see you Phil.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Later Techno, mate. And I’m sure I’ll be seeing you too, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Clay</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clay seems to get nervous at the emphasis on his name, and Techno just shoves all of his garbage onto Clay.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop being weird, Phil’s just being dumb. Throw out my garbage, I can’t leave the store in case a customer comes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, alright,” Clay says, taking a deep breath before shoving the last piece of burrito and his mouth and crunching the wrappings in his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Techno watches him leave, listens to the chimes, and immediately gets distracted by the louder chime of Clay’s phone, which is sitting on the counter, a brand new notification on its screen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now, Techno wouldn’t call himself a typically nosey person. He feels as if people’s business is their own, and he has no interest in prying into it. Techno would also consider himself human, and the ‘loud noise, bright light’ combo is something that makes his head snap over to it, and he finds himself leaning over to look at it before he can stop himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes skip over the text, looking straight at the background, which is a picture of Clay and two other boys in front of what looks to be the lit-up retro background of a roller-rink. Clay is smiling widely, his arms around each of the other two. The one on the left has a white bandana wrapped around his forehead, his black hair swooping over his face as he beams at the camera. The one on the right has clout goggles pushed up into his dark hair, and seems to be looking at Clay with a semi-disgruntled smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The phone turns off before Techno can see any more, and he instinctively taps the screen to see a text.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s from a group chat labelled “we DONT have sex”, and is from a contact labelled “Sapnap”. It reads “dweamy weamy cway weaw awe youw”. Technoblade goes back to sit in his seat, and puts his head in his hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What the fuck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door chimes again, and Techno looks up at Clay.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nice background. You got a text.” He says, and Clay’s face explodes into red. It highlights his freckles, and Techno thinks that it’s kinda funny, especially because Clay also sort of bends over, trying to twist his face away from Techno while also trying to grapple blindly for his phone. He grabs it eventually and clicks it on frantically, face getting even redder when he sees the text.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did—did you read the text?” He whispers, and Techno holds back a snort.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I don’t know why I’d read your texts, Cway.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clay groans loudly, bending over until he’s crouching on the floor in shame, Techno laughing at his predicament. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually, Clay stands back up, heading back behind the counter to sit on his stool. He still doesn’t look Techno in the eye as he responds to his texts, but as the afternoon goes on and their conversation flows for the rest of the day, Clay forgets entirely about the texts, and Techno enjoys the fact that he just gets company for the afternoon, even though if it had been a few weeks ago he would’ve hated to see someone walk through the door. Something about Clay made him want to be the other man’s friend, and if he’s being honest Techno likes the comfortable atmosphere they’ve crafted between themselves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He likes it so much, in fact, that he forgets to look at the time, and is rewarded a surprise chime of the door, and when he looks up, the sight of an absolutely gobsmacked Tommy and Tubbo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh. His shift is over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“WHAT THE FUCK?” Tommy cries, and Techno can already tell that he’s going to have a headache this afternoon.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>god i sure wonder what tommy was so shocked about. hope nothing bad happens.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. superstar, where are you from, how's it going?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>title from womanizer by britney spears (BANGER.)</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>TOLD YALL ID GET IT OUT TODAY HAHAHA YEAHHH anyway thanks to all of you in the comments who said "oh no tommy" you fueled the fact that i wanted this to happen ahah</p>
<p>anyway would any of yall bothered if i added a ship to the story? that was kinda the original purpose of the story (to have in universe dream be openly lgbt) but like if yall dont want a ship i wont explicitly put the ship :D (CLARIFYING!! the ship wouldn’t involve techno!! all relationship tags on the story would stay the same there would just be an added romantic one!!)</p>
<p>warning!! dream has a non graphic anxiety attack (and calms down from it) in this chap, so be aware. tysm to everyone who comments ily all!! and im just pissed that i left this story at 4999 words.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The first thing that Techno clocks about the situation is that Clay looks like he wants to disappear. He has his phone up, and is showing Techno a video he’d seen the other day, something about Minecraft since they’d both discovered they like the game after Techno had offhandedly mentioned that he “gamed”.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His hand lowers down to the ground, slowly dropping as he takes in the two shocked teens at the door, Techno watches his face drop slowly, as if resigning himself to some sort of fate. It was the same sort of reaction he’d had when he saw Phil earlier, but somehow amplified tenfold. Clay’s hands clench on themselves and he starts picking at the wrists of his sweater. Techno looks away from him as he hears the typical stomping of Tommy’s footsteps.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck,” Clay breathes out, as Tommy stomps up to the counter, pointing a finger at Techno’s chest. Techno just sighs. He doesn’t know why Clay seems to be so anxious about two teens he’s never met before, but it isn’t really any of his business. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who the fuck is that, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Technoblade</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Tommy squints his eyes at Techno, “since when did you have </span>
  <em>
    <span>friends</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Techno snorts.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t have to tell you about everyone I meet, you’re not my dad,” he says, and Tommy scoffs in offense.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Does Phil even know about him!” He shouts, and Techno’s throat starts to hurt from the laugh he’s holding back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s not my dad either, but yeah they’ve—” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy groans loudly, “Oh, why am I always the last one to know about these things!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The laugh is about to bubble out of Techno’s throat before he spares a glance at Clay, who still looks slightly shaken, glancing between Techno—who is now looking at him worriedly—and Tommy, who is now glancing between Techno and Clay, eyebrows furrowed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo finally moves from where Tommy had left him at the entrance to the shop, moving himself around the counter (and Tommy) and shimmying around Clay’s stool to get to the back of the shop.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy’s head snaps up to him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tubbo, my bag!” He yells, slipping it off his shoulders and hefting it up. Tubbo pokes his head out of the back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You were busy!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well I’m not now!” He shouts, and Techno bends over to the side as Tommy launches his backpack over the counter, Tubbo catching it perfectly before shuffling back into the back room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re welcome!” Comes out of the room, and Tommy blinks from where he was presumably about to start yelling at Techno again, mouth open and hands ready to gesture.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks Tubzo!” He shouts, before focusing his full attention back on Techno. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Techno turns away from him (much to Tommy’s chagrin, as he’d been rearing up to yell again) to look at Clay, who seems like he’s panicking less than he was before. Techno leans closer to him and puts a hand on his knee, which Clay’s eyes flit down to before his hands unclench slightly. Techno humms.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Clay, are you ok? Sorry this was…sprung on you. I know Tommy can be a lot,” he mumbles to Clay, who takes a deep breath. He thinks on their past experiences for a second, how Clay had reacted to meeting Phil, and how even during their more casual conversions he had seemed hyper-aware of the rare people walking outside of the shop. Techno hadn’t gotten any customers while Clay had been in the shop with him, but if he had he was sure Clay would’ve reacted the same way. “I know you don’t really…like new people that much.” He tacks on.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s obviously not quiet enough, as Tommy screeches, “I’m not a lot! I’m a delight to be around!” over his second statement, making Clay giggle slightly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Techno squeezes his knee once more before leaning back, but Clay shoots forward and grabs his hand back, almost leaning his entire body over just to grab Techno’s hand. Techno stares at him for a few seconds, during which Clay starts slowly inching his hand out of Techno’s, before Techno adjusts their hands, grabbing Clay’s back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Techno watches as Clay slowly relaxes, and turns his head back to Tommy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just clock in in the back, loser,” Techno says, and Tommy scoffs and stomps towards them, walking around the counter and squeezing around Clay’s stool, stopping in front of Techno before heading back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wilbur’s hearing that you made a friend,” he threatens, poking Techno in the shoulder. Techno’s form doesn’t budge.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m surprised Phil didn’t tell you two yet,” Techno says, and Tommy huffs, heading into the back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll be having a word with </span>
  <em>
    <span>him </span>
  </em>
  <span>about that too,” is the last thing Techno hears about him before he disappears, letting Techno put all of his focus back onto Clay.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well,” Clay says, his voice cracking in the middle of the sentence. He coughs slightly, and Techno smiles apologetically at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry about that, again, I know you and new people don’t mix, so…if I knew Tommy was coming I would’ve warned you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clay sighs, and runs his free hand through his hair, messing it up. He stares at a point slightly over Techno’s shoulder for a few seconds before squeezing his hand, looking into Techno’s eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I—I love meeting new people, it’s just…” he takes a deep breath, and in this moment Techno feels hyper aware of everything around him, from the light flowing in through the window to Clay’s hand. Clay is looking at him like he’s imploring him to </span>
  <em>
    <span>understand </span>
  </em>
  <span>something, and Techno finds himself willing to listen to anything Clay wants to say to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Techno has, truth be told, never become friends this quickly with someone. Whether this is due to the fact that the last person he became friends with he met over half a year ago (Tubbo, when Tommy had come dragging him in and yelling for Phil to give him a job) or due to the fact that he’s healing (and if that isn’t terrifying, Techno doesn’t know what was. Two years ago Techno couldn’t even begin to fathom the thought of starting to heal, and here he is, making meaningful connections in what can’t have even been a month. He should tell Phil.) he doesn’t know, but he does know that seeing Clay like this, nervous and clutching his hand like it’s a lifeline, makes him want to give him a hug.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Techno doesn’t do hugs. He hadn’t done hugs when Phil had given him one with tears running down his face all those months ago, and he still doesn’t want to do hugs now, but for some fucking reason in this moment he wants to hug Clay.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Techno, I—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> “Why the fuck are you still here?” Tommy yells, sticking his head out of the back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The effect is immediate, Clay sitting up stock straight as the previous atmosphere that had been blanketing the two of them gets muscled out by one sixteen-year-old boy. Techno leans up from where he’d unconsciously been putting more pressure on Clay’s leg to ground him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why don’t you water some fucking plants or something?” Techno asks, tugging on Clay’s hand to pull him off of the stool. He kicks his and Clay’s stools to the side as Clay stumbles to his feet, and starts dragging them towards the entrance of the store.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You didn’t have a bag with you, did you?” He asks, and Clay shakes his head wordlessly. He seems to be in a slight state of shock, probably from being interrupted earlier. It sounded important, but Techno’s sure that </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, where do you think you’re going?” Tommy yells, and Techno turns around to fix him with a withering stare. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My shift’s over.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And so you’re leaving? You and,” He waves his hand towards Clay, “your friend. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Friend</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Techno. I’m telling Wilbur. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>have </span>
  </em>
  <span>to tell Wilbur.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He mumbles that last part, and Techno takes the chance to drag Clay closer to the door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“His name is Clay,” Techno says, “and we’re leaving.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, you can’t leave me here with Tubbo all night, I won’t survive. You know how shitty those business people are,” Tommy whines, but moves back behind the counter, leaning over it dramatically.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Suck it up, bitch boy,” Techno deadpans, and drags Clay out of the shop, turning the corner just in time to hear Tommy shout in frustration, and to hear Tubbo shout “Did they leave? I wanted to beg them to take me with them so I didn’t have to spend time with you!” from the back, a muffled argument breaking out between the two as the door swings shut.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clay looks at Techno, and Techno cringes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Holy shit, I am so so—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clay bursts into laughter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s loud and wheezing and echoes throughout the empty hallways where the shop is situated. A smile grows on Techno’s face as he watches Clay collapse to the ground, wheezing so hard he clutches his stomach.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What the </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he gets out before letting out another wheeze, his hand slapping the tiled floor as he laughs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tommy can be…a lot, yeah,” Techno says.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That was so—so much more than a lot, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Technoblade</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Clay laughs, and Techno groans.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t fuckin’—Techno is </span>
  <em>
    <span>fine</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Techno complains, smiling as Clay lets out another wheeze and stands up from his spot on the floor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“God—that was a lot,” Clay says, smiling and letting out a breath. “I’ll probably head out, but I’ll see you, Techno.” He points over his shoulder, the way opposite from the way Techno took home. Towards the exit rather than towards the trains. Techno smiles and squeezes Clay’s hand before dropping it and pointing over his own shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, see you,” he says, starting to turn away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Techno?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah?” Techno turns back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re welcome for lunch, but you owe me next time!” He says, smiling, and Techno snorts.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe one of these days,” Techno says, and Clay laughs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Techno walks away, and as he turns the corner he hears the telltale sound of the bell on the door of the shop ringing throughout the hall.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Tubbo rushes out of the shop, running after one of the men who had just exited.</p>
<p>He catches him just as he's about to round the corner, placing his hand on his shoulder and panting for a second before shoving a book and a pen into his chest.</p>
<p>"Uh," he says eloquently, "Techno and Tommy may not recognize you, but I do. My sister is a big fan. Can I...have an autograph?"</p>
<p>Clay smiles at him, "yeah, Tubbo was it?"</p>
<p>"Make it out to Lani," Tubbo says, smiling. "L-a-n-i."</p>
<p>"Tell your sister I say hi," Clay says, handing the book back to Tubbo.</p>
<p>Tubbo grapples his phone from his back pocket, hesitating for a second before looking up at Clay, who chuckled at him when he saw him pause.</p>
<p>"You want a picture?"</p>
<p>"Yes please," Tubbo breathes out, and Clay takes the phone, opening up the camera app to take a picture with the teenager.</p>
<p>"Uh, thanks," Tubbo says, rushing back towards the shop as soon as he gets the phone back.</p>
<p>Clay watches him run back, and sees Tubbo pause as he's opening the door to the shop.</p>
<p>"I'm a fan too!" He shouts, rushing back into the shop.</p>
<p>Clay laughs, turning away and continuing to walk towards the exit of the underground path.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>huh its my <a href="https://twitter.com/y9gurt">twitter</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>